Presumed Dead
by Leafey
Summary: Edward, consumed with grief and rage, hunts the vampire who killed his fiance. When he catches up to James, he's in for the shock of his existence. For mature audiences only.
1. Chapter 1

Presumed dead

**Authors note: This is my first foray into writing Twilight fan fiction. I've read some amazing stories lately, which are listed in my favorites if you have a mind to check them out. Of course, Edward and Bella belong to Stephenie Meyer. . .I'm just playing with them:) This story has mentions of past graphic violence and sexual assault, and is very much rated M. If that's not your cup of tea, I'm sure you can find something else that is. Please enjoy! **

The pale light of the winter afternoon began to give way to dusk. It would be dark in less than an hour. The large, dilapidated house sat at the edge of a neighborhood which was mostly abandoned. Windows had been boarded up, the screen door hung crookedly in its frame, and there was a large hole in the roof. The street had been recently purchased by a developer, hoping to build luxury condominiums. The only residents were vagrants and addicts, which the Portland PD had recently flushed out. Edward could only stare, thinking this was an ideal setting to destroy the vampire who'd taken his love, and set the stage of a fire gone out of control.

_Ideal._ Fresh guilt and a searing influx of grief crested within him, twisting and writhing, threatening to take on a life of its own.

Bella, his beautiful Bella, rose to the surface of his thoughts. He remembered with perfect recall, a gift turned curse, how she had looked the last time he'd seen her. The beautiful flush of blood in her cheeks when she agreed to marry him. The sun filtering through the trees and casting dappled light upon her, the feeling of his heart soaring when she said yes.

And then, as it always happened, he was unable to draw upon these memories without the horror of the next day crashing down upon him. Bella taken, her shredded clothing left behind, and blood. So much, _too much_, blood.

His hand slid into his pocket, fingering the ring he'd never had a chance to put on her beautiful hand. He carried it now, always, as a talisman and a reminder. A constant memorial of his beautiful mate. Always with him.

"You didn't have to come," Edward murmured, as Jasper and Emmett appeared on either side of him.

"Pff," Emmett snorted. "And let you have all the fun?"

His words were at odds with his thoughts, however. While Emmett enjoyed a fight, much to Rose's chagrin, his own memories of Bella surfaced before he could stop them. Swirling visions of her pierced his conscious. Her human scent, the contrast of her beating heart to those of the Cullen's, looking adoringly at Edward, a long patient sigh while Alice played dress up with her. While he himself hadn't lost his mate, Bella had come to mean something to him in the time he'd known her. Edward blanched at seeing her through his brother's eyes, through a different lens, and Emmett quickly averted his thoughts to football.

"We wouldn't be anywhere else," Jasper said from his left. "She was your mate, but she was our sister."

Edward nodded once, not trusting himself to speak. Instead, he mentally reached out into the house ahead of them, searching for the thoughts of others.

Loud music was emanating from within. The heavy pulse of death metal thrummed throughout the neighborhood, reverberating off of several abandoned houses. Edward caught the edges of James's thoughts and his face twisted in disgust.

His inner dialogue was fractured and disjointed, as though he were losing his grip on reality. Edward had heard this type of discourse in the minds of addicts and the mentally ill, but never another vampire. Words and impressions filtered through his mind. His pleasure at the screams of a victim with pale skin mottled with bruises, both fresh and healing. A blonde vampire's face, contorted in rage as she walked out, slamming the door so violently that it splintered the wood frame. The pleas of the same young woman, as he performed depraved acts on her. Edward suddenly wrenched his mind out of James's. If he were human he may have been ill.

James was truly a monster.

Jasper and Emmett were watching him carefully. Jasper could, of course, feel his revulsion.

_That bad?_ He thought darkly, to which Edward gave a sharp nod.

"He's alone," Edward said after a long moment. "Another vampire has been here, but I can't tell if she'll be back."

"Anyone we know?" asked Emmett.

"No, " Edward replied. "They may have been lovers, but it seems like she disagrees with his _lifestyle."_

"In that case, we shouldn't waste time," Jasper said, his eyes sharply surveying the house. "Emmett, you kick down the front door, I'll go in through the back, and Edward? Why don't you go through the hole in the roof?"

Edward nodded. Jasper was accepted as the best strategist in the family after his years of experience, before meeting Alice.

"He may have a victim in there," Edward warned suddenly, catching the fresh vindictive pleasure course through James as he thought of things he wanted to do to her. He saw the same young woman shackled to a bed on the second floor through James's thoughts. "Second floor, third door to the left."

"I'll get her," Jasper volunteered but Edward shook his head immediately. "There's- blood. A lot of it. Mostly dry, but. ."

Jasper tensed. He hated the reminder of his weakness to the thirst in comparison to the rest of the family, but he nodded anyway, putting the feeling of shame aside to examine later.

"I'll go," Edward said after a beat. "After we deal with James."

The three of them swiftly took their places and Edward waited for the sound of Emmett kicking in the front door as his cue. Silently, he soared in through the hole in the roof, landing in a crouch in what had once been a kitchen, judging by the refrigerator. Jasper and Emmett had already subdued James, who was hissing and snarling, Emmett's boot on his neck. He was face down on the peeling linoleum, both of Edward's brother's pinning him down.

He laughed humorlessly when he saw Edward.

"Took your time, lover boy," he taunted.

Edward's eyes hardened. He'd had time enough to think about what he would do to the vampire who had murdered, and probably tortured his mate. James must have known that Edward would make it slow, and tried to expedite the process by making him angry. A good tactic for a vampire with less self control, but Edward had mastered the art. If his self control weren't iron clad before he'd moved to forks and met the star-crossed love of his life, her murder had pushed him over the edge of obsessive compulsive self mastery.

Carlisle would have been impressed under other circumstances. It was the type of restraint he himself tapped into daily as a physician, and had always tried to impress upon his adopted children. As it were, his father's thoughts had grown increasingly concerned over the last several months, thinking of ways to convince Edward to leave Forks and return to Central America, where they owned one of several homes.

Esme watched him with worried eyes as he shuffled around their home. He no longer played the piano, and spent almost all of his time pouring over maps and following up on leads. Even Alice, his closest sibling, had refused to search for James in her visions. "It isn't healthy, Edward! Bella wouldn't have wanted this!"

But what Bella would or wouldn't have wanted was moot. She was the kindest woman he'd met in his century on this earth. He was sure she'd want him to find love again, forgive James, etc. What she didn't understand, what no human could know, was the connection vampires formed with their mates. Even after the relatively short time they'd been together, Bella was the dawn and nightfall of his existence, and James had snuffed her out like a light. If the amount of blood in her truck had been any kind of gauge, she had suffered before her light had gone out. He had taken his time with her, waiting for Edward.

Edward looked at that man, the savage who had slain his love, now. James's eyes glowed red and he smiled meanly.

"I deflowered her," he jeered. "She said you weren't man enough to fuck her. She's such a good little cocksucker. Were you waiting for marriage, Romeo? Because her hot little ass is-"

Before he finished his sentence Emmett's fist connected with his face with enough force to unhinge his jaw. His eyes were black as he twisted his arm back until it snapped at an unnatural angle. Visions of Rose filled his mind, and the intimate moments they had together where she'd shared the brutal attack she'd suffered before her human life ended and her immortal one began.

"Sorry, man," he muttered to Edward, coming back to himself. "He's yours to finish off."

Edward stepped forward, only to freeze. Through the rotting layers of wood and old insulation of the ceiling, he heard a whimper. He'd almost forgotten about the girl he'd seen in Jame's mind, chained to a bed in one of the rooms above them. A sudden surge of grief and empathy crushed him. The fury and rage that had fueled him in the long months he'd spent searching for Bella's killer sailed out of him in one tremendous woosh, leaving him feeling empty and deflated.

He ran a hand through his tawny hair and took in an unnecessary and painful breath. In that instant he knew how he could honor the girl he loved; he could save the victim upstairs and make very certain James would never harm anyone ever again.

"Rip him apart," he sighed after a long moment. "I'll get the girl, and then we can torch the place."

Emmett opened his mouth to object, but Jasper laid a quick hand on his shoulder.

"Sure," he said, squeezing the much larger man's bicep to stem the impending protestation. "Tell us if you need help."

_What the fuck_, Emmett thought, as Edward took the stairs. _I only wish I could get my hands on the men who hurt Rosie. He's been looking for this sack of shit for months and-_

Edward tuned him out. The stairs protested under his weight as he ascended them to the second floor. The stench of mildew and vomit assailed him at once, accompanied by a waft of rotting food. Whoever he had on that bed had been here for a while.

He pushed the door open, which gave an almighty screech. The bed was empty, but Edward was sure she was still here. A chain was tethered to an old brass bed frame, which trailed across the bare mattress and disappeared beneath the bed. She was hiding under the bed, her breath coming in short pants.

Aside from the ancient double bed, the room was practically empty. Curtains, which had probably once been sheer hung crookedly in the small window and a bucket for her waste was perched next to the bed. The smell of blood, dried and fresh sent a momentary surge of fire down his throat, which he swiftly cast aside.

Edward stepped toward her carefully, as though approaching a wounded animal. This girl probably had every reason to be afraid. Terrified.

He squatted carefully beside the bed and peered under it. The chain was attached to a metal band around her throat, and she cowered on her side, her head tucked to her chest and her knees drawn up. He couldn't see her face through her matted dark hair.

"Hi," he said gently. "I won't hurt you, I'm here to help you if I can."

The girl flinched violently at the sound of his voice, the shackles she wore rattling with the movement. Even in the poor lighting, his vampire vision could detect the bruises smattering her exposed skin. Her elbows, ankles and knees protruded sharply, giving the appearance of malnutrition.

"James is dead," he tried again. "He'll never touch you again. I can drop you off at a hospital if you want."

At this she peered over her arm, her eyes shrouded in darkness. Edward's chest tightened. James, it seemed, had a type. She looked shockingly similar Bella, but smaller, impossibly thin and filthy as though she hadn't bathed in a very long time. There was a thin silver scar through one eyebrow.

"My father is a doctor," Edward said softly. "I can call him if you want. Can I help you out of there?"

He extended his hand slowly, not wanting to spook her.

Gingerly, she withdrew a hand from beneath her small body and placed it in his hand. She was still warm to a vampire, but Edward could tell she wasn't warm enough for a human. It was immediately clear that three of her fingers had been broken and healed without being set.

She let him pull her out from under the bed while she half crawled, trembling with cold and fear. Once out she pulled her knees up to her chest again, tucking her head down so her face was once again concealed. She wore a torn negligee, and Edward felt another torrent of rage course through him as he ascertained a clearer view of her injuries. Her neck was raw and red under her _collar_, there was a macabre patchwork of mottled bruising and lacerations in varying stages of healing across her back. Her shoulder bones were so sharp and delicate that she looked like a little bird, shaking in the presence of a larger predator. He could see each individual notch of the vertebrae that made up her spine.

"I'm going to take the collar off your neck," Edward said, carefully moving the tangled mass of hair to one side. She nodded almost imperceptibly. With great care, Edward used his thumbnail to sever the manacle, which fell to the ground at his feet with a clatter.

The girl hissed in pain and he instantly knew why. The scent of fresh blood engulfed him once more. There were several places on her pale neck where her skin had been chafed raw and then healed to the metal.

"Ah," she cried out, clapping her hand over a particularly vicious looking wound.

"Everything's ready," Jasper announced from the doorway, carefully watching them, trying to hold his breath as the smell of her blood permeated the stale air.

The girl started, and scuttled backwards between the bed frame and the wall. She looked up then, her large brown eyes taking in the two vampires and her breathing coming in short, panicked gasps.

Edward opened his mouth to scold Jasper for startling her, and froze dramatically. He blinked several times. Even in his wildest fantasies, he couldn't quite allow himself this one. She was emaciated, her cheekbones jutting out too far and her skin so pale that it was almost translucent, but it was _her._ His Bella stared disbelievingly at him, her eyes darting to Jasper and back again. Apparently she couldn't quite believe it either.

"Bella," Edward said in wonder, dropping to one knee beside her. "Bella, my love, is it you? Can it be?"

Emmett had come up the stairs, and both he and Jasper stared with identical expressions of shock and disbelief. They had never found Bella's body, but judging by the amount of her blood they found in and around her truck, Carlisle had said it was almost impossible for her to still be alive. The Cullen family had recoiled at the mental image of how brutal her death must have been to leave so much blood not ingested by James. Even seasoned vampires, like Carlisle, with a compassionate resolve not to harm humans would have had difficulty faced with so much human blood. Edward had gone almost mad with grief, and Alice had shut herself in her bedroom for weeks, only leaving to hunt.

Bella only stared at him, tears creating clean pathways down her otherwise soiled cheeks. If Edward were able to cry he would have. A surge of emotion stronger than any he had ever experienced rose up inside of him and crashed like a tidal wave. Regret, longing, love and rage all warred for supremacy inside of him.

"Bella," he breathed, this time reaching out a tremulous hand to trail his finger down the length of her arm.

She flinched at his touch, once again curling up into her protective ball, shaking with fright. To see her so blatantly terrified made Edward inwardly hiss with anger. He had a sudden pang of regret that he'd let Jasper and Em have the honors of tearing James apart.

"Jesus Christ," said Emmett, who had regained his power of speech.

A melodic ringing sound came from Jasper's pocket and he retrieved it at once, putting the phone to his ear.

"Jasper," came Alice's shrill cry. "I saw-"

"Yeah," Jasper quietly interjected, backing away from the door to speak to his wife in the relative privacy of the hallway. "What does Carlisle think?"

Edward pulled himself away from the sound of the conversation. Carlisle's medical opinion would certainly be necessary. He needed his surrogate father more than ever, but first he had to take care of Bella. She was shivering, and for the first time Edward remembered that it was late fall and that she must be freezing, if not mildly hypothermic.

"Emmett," he said quietly, "I need you to give me your jacket and start the car."

Emmett, who was usually adverse to taking orders from anyone other than Carlisle or Rose, handed over his large jacket without complaint, and spirited away from the dank bedroom to start the SUV they'd left two miles down the road.

"Bella," he tried softly. "Bella, will you look at me, please?"

Bella gave no indication that she'd heard him at all, other than the tightening of her arms around her legs, which were pressed impossibly hard to her chest. He reached out again to lightly touch her, stroking her matted hair. She let out a soft wail at that point, and violently thrashed her head from side to side.

"Youaren'theregoaway, youaren'theregoaway," she chanted almost inaudibly. "You aren't real. . .stop it."

Edward withdrew in confused alarm. She was so malnourished it was possible that she was experiencing hallucinations, and unable to tell if Edward were real or not. Although he had two medical degrees, he had never studied mental health or the effects of serious physical trauma in any depth. _Damn it_, he needed Carlisle.

"Bella, I'm going to put the coat on you, okay?" he said, inching closer to her position against the wall. Gently, he rested Emmett's coat on her shoulders, which seemed to swallow her whole. She shuddered, but allowed it, her grip on her knees relaxing minutely.

"Car's ready," Jasper murmured from the door frame. "Alice made us a reservation at a hotel downtown. Carlisle and Rose are on their way."

"Rose?" he asked in disbelief. Rose had publicly denounced his relationship with the human girl many times. Then a thought, the only plausible one, came to mind. "Tell Rose if she wants to go shopping she can pick another time," Edward snapped.

Jazz coughed. "No," he said. "I think she wants to help. . .you know, with her history and all. . ."

Ah, of course. Edward immediately felt guilty for assuming the worst. Although Portland was a source of fruitful shopping expeditions for his adopted sisters and mother, even cold, aloof Rose could manage to set aside her impenetrable mask to help his mate, when she suffered months of the worst types of abuse. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Of course," he said, shamefaced. "My mistake." He then turned to Bella, who was still slumped over her knees. "Bella," he said, "We're going to take you somewhere safe. Carlisle is coming to take a look at you."

No response. Edward sighed.

"Bella, I know this must be very disorienting, but I only want to help you."

Her arms went limp at her sides and Edward cocked his head to see her face. Her eyes were closed and her features relaxed. Could she have really fallen asleep, or was she, more likely, unconscious?

Edward inched closer. She was breathing, thank God if he existed. Her breaths were labored and her skin a pallid hue which bordered on grey. Wincing, Edward lifted her, using one arm to support her back and tucking the other under her knees. She didn't wake, flopping boneless back in his arms. She had no undergarments on under the filthy negligee she wore, and he tucked Emmett's coat firmly under her bottom to protect her modesty. He supposed he should be thankful that James had allowed her clothing at all.

The ride to the hotel was long and tense. In reality it was less than half an hour, but to Edward it was an eternity in which Bella's condition could worsen at any second. He held her in the back seat of the Volvo, silently thanking Alice for insisting they take it instead of one of the litany of sports cars they owned, which only held two people comfortably.

When they pulled into the parking garage of the Westin Edward rolled his eyes. Trust Alice to choose a five star hotel for Bella to be examined in before they took her home. He turned his ire on Jasper, the next best thing in his wife's absence, scowling.

"The Westin?" he asked irritably. "Is she trying to draw attention to us? How the hell do we get her up to the room without drawing suspicion?"

They couldn't very well carry a half naked, unconscious woman through the lobby.

"Service Elevator," Jasper said, jerking his chin towards over sized metal doors. "Emmett will get us checked in and we'll take her up."

Edward growled under his breath and grumbled something about unnecessary risks, gently stroking her bare calf, which protruded from the over sized jacket.

When Bella woke, she thought she was still asleep. She didn't dream very often anymore. Sleep was the only reprieve she had from the unending torrent of abuse from her captor, and her subconscious seized the opportunity for blissful nothingness. Early on, when she'd still had hope she'd be found, rescued, her dreams closely resembled waking as she was now.

She was in a bed. The comforter was white goose down and the sheets had a luxurious quality with an obviously high thread count. Her injured body still ached, even in sleep, but the pain was duller, more manageable.

Soft voices could be heard somewhere, and Bella hoped that James hadn't invited _friends_ to torment her as well, and that she wasn't on the verge of leaving this lovely dream only to endure the worst of the abuses she'd suffered. Her eyes fluttered closed, she tried to make out the voices and drown them out all at once. She didn't know which she wanted more- to hear their plans for her, or to enjoy this wonderful sensation for a few more minutes.

In her dream, she opened her eyes once more, determined to absorb this lovely feeling before she awoke in some new nightmare. Still swathed in white bedding, she noticed the walls around her, a deep navy blue. She sighed. She'd always loved the color blue. What a lovely dream.

"Bella?" said an urgent voice. At vampire speed, the oft object of these rare dreams came into focus, hovering above her, his head and shoulders silhouetted by a warm halo of lamp light. Her eyes leaked tears, she couldn't help it, even if she knew she'd be punished for crying later. She didn't want to wake up this time. She wanted to stay here, wrapped in this down comforter with Edward forever.

His cool hand palmed her forehead and he cursed. "Carlisle!" he called. "She'd burning up!"

Odd, she thought, this wasn't usually part of her dream. It was usually just her and Edward. Sometimes like this, in bed, and other times they were in the meadow. Less often her dreams featured one or both of her parents.

Another figure loomed over her, Carlisle, her brain supplied, and his own chilled hand rested on her forehead. His brows creased with concentration and then with worry.

"103," Carlisle murmured. "She has a respiratory infection too, which could easily turn into pneumonia. We need to start an IV of antibiotics and something to reduce the fever."

"What can I do?" Edward asked, his voice raw with emotion. Bella was sure she'd never heard him sound so helpless in real life, let alone a dream.

"Keep her occupied while I get the IV going. I don't want her to thrash while I'm inserting it. Rose? Can you keep her arm still?"

There was a feminine voice, one that sounded like the tinkling of bells, and more cold hands manipulating one of her arms.

Edward hovered over her once again, this time resting his own forehead against hers, their noses touching. "I'm so sorry Bella," he breathed. A cool, wet feeling at the crook of the inside of her elbow made her jerk, and she vaguely heard Carlisle in the background issuing instructions. "My love," Edward was saying, pulling Bella back to the wonderful apparition. "I didn't know you were alive. If I'd known I would have come for you sooner. I would have never stopped looking. I'm so so sorry."

Something pierced her tender skin now, but Bella could barely gasp. Suddenly, she became acutely aware of an uncomfortable pressing on her chest, and the warm lovely quality of her dream shifted. Although there was no one actually sitting on her sternum, that's exactly what it felt like. Her breathing began to feel labored and she gasped and clutched at her throat.

"Rose, pass me that syringe of ativan," someone said. "Bella, this is going to put you to sleep so your body can heal."

A warm sensation spread from the juncture between her bicep and forearm, where she'd felt a sharp pinch just moments ago. Edward's troubled face swam in and out of focus and with all her effort she reached out to touch him. What if this were the last dream she ever had? She would never see him again, she thought desperately. Bella wanted to touch him, even if it weren't real, just one last time.

With great effort, her fingertips made contact with his jaw and his hand came around to cup hers, pressing it to his chilled skin. He felt the same as she remembered from their time in Forks. So smooth and cool to the touch, like granite.

"I want this to be real," she slurred, half crazed with fever and pain. "I want you to be real."

Edward's eyes, which had been closed, absorbing the feel of her small hot hand against his face, snapped open. The intensity behind his amber stare reminded her so much of the real Edward Cullen that she laughed, which turned into a violent cough, racking her body. White dotted lights appeared behind her eyelids and the room pitched sharply to one side and the world swayed on its axis. She felt as though she were free falling, and wondered blearily if this were death. The death she had begged for so many times in these last months. Darkness pooled like ink at the edges of her vision.

"E-Edward," she breathed, and his handsome face faded, the world around her going black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors note: This chapter will have mentions of past rape and abuse, and is intended for mature audiences only. Please enjoy and review:)**

**Chapter two**

There was some discussion about what was to be done in regards to transferring her home. Carlisle considered an ambulance and a hospital stay, but before Edward could even open his mouth to object, Rose hissed fiercely.

"Over my pile of ashes," she snarled furiously. "You think the best treatment will be for her to wake up in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by strange men?!"

"Babe," Emmett said, grasping her hand, but Rosalie shrugged him off angrily.

"Rosalie," Carlisle tried, sighing with mild exasperation. "I'm only-"

"What are you thinking?!" she demanded, her voice taking on a shrill quality that usually didn't bode well for the object of her ire. "Carlisle-"

"I agree," Edward quietly interjected, causing Rose to stop speaking abruptly and blink. "I don't want her out of my sight, and I don't want her to wake up en route and become frightened."

Carlisle nodded pensively, considering Bella's condition, weighing the risks and benefits.

"Alright," he conceded, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But if her condition worsens I'll insist on taking her to the hospital."

Edward nodded in agreement, vowing that the hospital would be a last resort.

* * *

The ride from Portland to Forks took four hours, in which Bella slept with the help of another sedative. Emmett and Rosalie had taken the corvette in a flash of red ahead of the other three, and would probably beat them home by at least an hour, while Jasper had run home the evening before. Edward sat in the back seat of the Volvo with Bella while Carlisle drove. He cradled her against his chest, dutifully holding her IV bag, and keeping her oxygen mask in place.

"We'll have to tell her about Charlie," Carlisle said somewhere between Vancouver and Chahalis.

Edward had thought of this and wasn't looking forward to it. Charlie had been distraught when Bella had gone missing. Although all evidence pointed towards an animal attack, the same animal, presumably, that had been stalking the residents of Forks for months before hand, Charlie wasn't convinced. He'd always been inconveniently sharp, which he put to use in finding his lost daughter.

He'd lead search parties that lead to nothing, handed out stacks of flyers and questioned the Cullen family relentlessly. Even if Edward weren't a mind reader, Charlie Swan's behavior would be indication enough that he suspected his daughter's boyfriend in her disappearance. His cruiser could be seen in places that Edward frequented, the library, the music store, the hospital where he had taken a part time job with the pretense of "paying for medical school." Less often, a member of his family would spot the police car tucked in an overgrown alcove on the road at the edge of their property.

Chief Swan's suspicion had been the very reason that, though they'd like to at times, they couldn't jump town. That was until three weeks ago, of course. Charlie had followed a lead to New Mexico, where a Bella look alike had been spotted working in a movie theater, and hadn't come back. The FBI had become involved in the Chief's disappearance a week later his cruiser had been found in the desert, a burnt out shell, with Charlie nowhere to be found.

"Not until we have to," Edward murmured, stroking Bella's back.

"Of course," Carlisle agreed easily. "But son, she may ask, and if she does-"

"We'll put her off," Edward grit out, wanting to end this topic of discussion. He wouldn't risk upsetting Bella when her mental and emotional state was so fragile. She'd been hallucinating the last time she'd been awake, for Christ's sake. Even if she asked about Charlie, he'd steer the conversation in another direction until she was at least able to get out of bed.

Carlisle put both hands up, his wrists still touching the steering wheel as he drove, in the universal sign of surrender. He was willing to drop the subject, for now. His thoughts lingered on Edward's sometimes autocratic nature where Bella was concerned, before they moved on to the list of medical supplies he would need to obtain from the hospital in order to treat her at home.

Edward wanted to bristle at being categorized as high-handed, but he knew it was somewhat accurate. Bella was human, for now, and incredibly delicate. One misstep, one slip of his excellent self-control, and she could. . . He didn't want to finish the thought. He knew very well what could happen to her if he so much as hugged her too tightly. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting her, deliberately or unintentionally.

But someone, James, _had_ hurt her intentionally, badly. And it was so much worse than the amorous affection Edward had longed to give her, taken too far. His throat constricted uncomfortably at the thought, and he had to force the feeling of white hot rage to recede. He'd seen enough of James's thoughts in conjunction with Bella's injuries to understand what had been happening to her. Probably on a daily basis.

He looked down at her now, lashes fanned out dark against her fair skin, her body impossibly light in his arms. So fragile, _too_ fragile. He could see the pale blue and purple veins beneath her nearly translucent skin. Her smell was different now, _off,_ in a way he couldn't name. She still smelled like Bella, but it was as though one of a hundred components that made up her scent had been removed and another added in its place. The same, but _different_ too. He wondered if human's scent changed over time, and asked Carlisle.

"Why?" Carlisle asked, looking at Edward through the rearview mirror. "Has her scent changed?"

"Yes. . .and no," Edward replied. "It's hard to describe. It's the same, but there's something _off_, I suppose. What I mean to say is, is it possible for her scent to change? Do all human's scent change over the course of their lifetime?"

"Hmm," he said, thinking carefully. "I'm not sure. Obviously, I haven't had any patients long enough to track their scent over the course of their life. Edward. . .Bella has been through what I can only imagine as horrendous abuse. She was found almost naked, chained to a bed after three years. . "

Edward sucked a breath through his teeth. He didn't need Carlisle to tell him how he'd found her, what she'd been through at the hands of that monster, and all because of him. If only he had found James earlier, he could have spared Bella some pain, some trauma.

"I'm aware," he said stiffly. "What is your point?"

"My _point _is that Bella has been through the worst possible types of abuse. She's in significant pain and hasn't properly bathed in god alone knows how long. Let's just jump one hurdle at a time, okay?"

Edward nodded, shelving the idea to examine at a later date. His eyes drifted past the top of Bella's dark hair to focus on the highway.

They were sailing through the Pacific Northwest now, and the sun was dipping towards the horizon behind a bank of dull grey cloud cover. He envied Emmett and Rose, that they could defy both the speed limit and the laws of gravity in Rose's newly enhanced red sports car. She been tinkering with it in the garage for a month before she declared it a masterpiece, and made the family come outside to watch it in action. Edward, who was something of a car man himself, was dutifully impressed. Whatever she had done to it, the car ran faster than any he'd owned by far.

He wished they could drive that fast now. Carlisle was strictly adhering to the traffic laws, making Edward edgy and tense. The trip home was an endless stretch of highway and evergreens. Bella didn't so much as shift in his arms, and he took her pulse every ten minutes to the second.

If his behavior bordered on compulsive, Carlisle didn't comment.

Finally, they pulled into the driveway, the gravel shifting and crunching beneath the tires. Rose and Emmett had talked about going hunting, and were still gone, but the rest of their family was waiting for them.

Esme was the first to greet them, practically dancing with nervous energy. She was at Edward's side the second he opened the car door, smoothing a kiss to his temple and resting her hand delicately on his arm as she peered over his shoulder at Bella.

Rosalie had gone shopping for Bella while they were still in Portland, and bought the soft black leggings, as well as the cashmere sweater and socks she now wore. Alice would have, no doubt, dressed her in an evening gown if she'd been tasked with finding Bella something suitable to wear.

"Oh, Bella," Esme breathed, gazing down at her eldest son's mate. "Poor thing. Oh, Edward, I'm so sorry. If we had known-"

"Thank you, Esme," he murmured, readjusting Bella in his arms.

"Let's take this indoors," Carlisle suggested, retrieving a small oxygen tank from the back seat. "This cold air isn't good for her respiratory infection."

"I set up a bed in your room," Alice said softly, materializing on Edward's right side. "I knew you would want her close by."

Edward nodded, not meeting his sister's eyes as he carried Bella bridal style into the house.

He carried her through the living room and up the staircase with Alice, Jasper, Esme and Carlisle trailing behind. The bed Alice had selected was king sized, and dressed in blue silk sheets with an ivory duvet. His couch had been relocated another wall to accommodate it, and he noticed that curtains had been hung along the wall of windows to offer her some privacy.

Carlisle took over once Edward laid her down, checking her vital signs and listening to her breathe through a stethoscope.

Esme and Jasper were quietly discussing a trip to the grocery store just outside the bedroom, and Alice nervously perched herself on the couch, watching Carlisle work with a shuttered look. Edward didn't need to read her thoughts to know that she was swimming in guilt and self loathing, and felt a fissure of anger flare within him.

If she hadn't refused to look for James, they may have found Bella months ago. Bella had suffered in ways Edward didn't want to think about too carefully, but unbidden images unfurled themselves within his mind all the same. It was as much his own fault as anyone's, but he couldn't help but heap some of the blame at Alice's feet as well.

Alice, always attuned to his moods, shifted, and came to stand beside him. "Edward," she said softly. "I'm so so-"

"Don't say it," Edward snapped. "Don't even think about it in my presence."

Alice withdrew, stung. The conversation in the hall halted. Jasper's thoughts were screaming '_watch it!_' while Esme's were more reproachful. '_Edward_,' she thought disapprovingly.

"Please, Edward," Alice whispered, her voice full of anguish. "I didn't-"

"Save it," he snarled.

Carlisle halted his exam and turned to Esme.

"My love," he said. "This is the only set of clothing Bella has. Maybe a shopping trip is in order?"

He looked from her to Alice meaningfully and Esme smiled softly at him. "Of course," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Perhaps you would like to join me, Alice?"

Alice looked as though she would cry if she were able, and nodded fervently, practically sprinting out the door. Esme followed with a resigned sigh, and Edward slipped her his credit card on her way out.

"Don't let Alice dress her like a doll," he growled. "She's sick and going to be spending time in bed, not at a ball."

Esme cast worried eyes upon him, and brought a hand up to his cheek. "You're angry and hurting. So is Alice. Be kind to her Edward, Bella will need you both."

Edward stared after her as she swept from the room, and caught Jasper's hard stare as he followed them downstairs. Carlisle was sitting on a short stool he'd brought in from his office with his hands resting atop his thighs, staring at his son.

"What?" Edward demanded, his feelings about Alice's attempted apology threatening to boil over and onto Carlisle.

"Nothing," he said mildly, turning once again to the prone girl on the bed.

* * *

She was in a bed.

Bella blinked several times as the room came into focus. She was in a bed. . .not a basement, or chained to a mattress. She was also alone, and she had been drugged.

Something was dulling the aches of old injuries and the searing pain of new ones. The world blurred slightly at the edges, lulling her into a false sense of security. It would be wonderfully easy to fall back into the blessed nothingness of sleep. Maybe she would dream of Edward again. . . Bella knew though, after months of captivity and abuse, that to survive she had to stay sharp and calm.

She focused on her breathing, keeping it even and light. She'd gotten good at faking sleep to a vampire, a skill she put to good use now.

_In, out, in, out, don't panic, don't let your pulse race._

Her eyes darted, memorizing what she could see from this position, trying to decipher where she might be. Book shelves, a music stand, a black leather couch laden with silver shopping bags reading; Nordstrom. . .

Windows, an IV stand with several bags of a transparent substance-

"Obviously she'll need surgery on her left hand, but she may never have full use of it again."

Bella willed herself to relax, to control her breathing, control her heart rate. These were tricks she used with James, and had been mostly successful.

_In, out, control, control, control._

"-and you did a _complete_ exam?"

The voices belonged to two men, two _vampires,_ and they were talking about her.

"Of course," said the other. "I want to respect her privacy, but. . ."

"What," asked another, darkly. "Carlisle, tell me."

"There's extensive damage. Nothing life threatening," he hastened to say. "But she's been violently assaulted. Repeatedly. She'll never have children, Edward. She'll probably never live a normal life. Not a human one, at least."

There was a controlled intake of breath and the sound of something snapping and exploding as it hit a solid surface.

"Nice," Carlisle said, staring at the mangled stereo system.

Bella barely managed to rein in her flinch, and now tried desperately to control her thoughts, her breath, her heart beat. She felt as though she had reentered the earth's atmosphere at 35,000 knots. Edward and Carlisle were here, and talking about her.

"That _bastard_," Edward hissed. "I wish I hadn't let Emmett and Jasper kill him. I wish I had torn him limb from-"

"Her heart rate is accelerating," Carlisle interjected. Bella felt cold hands feeling her pulse points and resting against her forehead.

"Bella?" came Edward's urgent voice. "Bella, are you awake? Can you hear me?"

Bella stayed still, her heart rate careening out of control. _This could be a trick_, her mind supplied. Another cruel ruse by her captor, designed to break her spirit.

"Bella," Carlisle said, from her other side, his voice soothing compared to the anguish of Edward's. "You're safe. You can open your eyes. We're all worried. Alice is waiting to see you, Esme too."

Bella's heart beat a staccato rhythm as she chanced opening her eyes.

Edward sagged with relief, his hands clutching the bedding and his head bowed as though in prayer.

"My love," he practically sobbed, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, his eyes meeting hers.

Bella watched him. The haze of medication was beginning to wear off minutely, and pain was creeping in. Everything seemed _off_, almost dreamlike as she looked blearily at him. He seemed real, everything did, but the hallucinations often did. His masculine scent pervaded her, reminding her so much of life before she had been abducted, that tears gathered again in the corners of her eyes.

"Are you here?" she asked, her voice rough from disuse. "Is this real?"

"Yes, love," he said, his lips brushing her hairline. "I'm here. You're safe. I'll never leave your side again."

Slowly, she raised her hand, seeing the IV which had been inserted in it for the first time, and reached for him. She had to touch him, had to know he was real. Edward leaned into her hand almost cat like, and allowed her to stroke him. She traced the strong line of his jaw, and ran her fingers through his tawny hair. A giddy feeling burst within her, filling the space where terror had consumed her for so very long.

_He was here, he was real. _

"I thought I was dead," she said breathlessly.

"So did I," he murmured, his voice breaking. "I would have looked for you if I thought there was a possibility. . . I would have never stopped."

Vaguely, she was aware of Carlisle excusing himself, and leaving them alone.

"Where are we?" she asked, watching him go.

"Home, love," he replied. "We're in my bedroom in Forks."

Bella drew in a shaky breath. During the time she had spent as James's captive, there were many hopeless moments when she believed she would never see Forks or Edward or any of the Cullen's ever again.

Dark memories of James rose up, eclipsing the relief she felt at waking up in Edward's bedroom, safe. For a moment she felt his icy fingers gripping her throat as he thrust into her unwilling body. "_Did Edward fuck you this good, Bells?"_ His cruel laughter ricocheted through her head, ringing in her ears.

"Bella?"

Someone was saying her name. Not James, but it was as though she were under water and couldn't hear them properly.

"You're safe, love. I've got you. . ."

Safe? Where was she?

"Carlisle!"

"_Of course he doesn't," James sneered. Bella was being torn in half as he impaled her again. His fingers closed around her neck even tighter, almost crushing her windpipe. Spots danced in her vision. She was dying. She would never see Edward again. . ._

"Bella, you're having a flashback. It isn't real. You're safe." Someone was gripping her upper arm.

_James' eyes bore into hers, his crimson irises alight with sadistic glee. "You're ruined for everyone else. . ."_

"**Bella!"**

She gasped for air. The vision snapped back like a rubber band, swirling into a spinning column of black smoke, and back into the darkest recesses of her mind. Carlisle had hauled her into a sitting position, and was watching her with concern etched on his face.

"You're safe," he repeated. "He's dead. He can't hurt you again."

Bella drew several shaky breaths that rattled her body, making her rib cage throb with the effort. Her hand came down, clutching her ribs where the stabbing pain been seconds before.

"Does your side hurt?" Carlisle asked.

She nodded, trembling.

"You had a flashback," he explained, easing himself into a sitting position on a stool next to the bed. "Sometimes, after a trauma, people relive their experience through flashbacks. It's as though it's happening again, but it isn't. You're here and safe."

Bella felt the bed dip where Edward perched himself on her other side, running a tentative hand down the length of her spine.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, mortified.

"No," Edward said too forcefully, and then after receiving a reproachful look from Carlisle; "No, love. Please, _please_ don't apologize. I can't bear it."

The last sentence was spoken so softly she almost didn't catch it. Edward's face was contorted in emotion, and Bella shifted to rest her hand on his knee. The motion made the white hot pain in her side to return and she cried out before she could stop herself, clapping a hand to it.

Edward was instantly kneeling beside her, easing her into a prone position on the bed.

"Is it your side?" he asked anxiously.

She nodded, the pain receding in the smallest measure. Carlisle was standing now, his eyes fixed intently on them both.

"Bella, with your permission, I need to examine your ribs." He looked at Edward pointedly, who stared stonily at him in return. A long beat of silence ensued, in which Bella was certain that Carlisle was communicating something to her fiance in his thoughts.

"Perhaps you'd like to give her some privacy, Edward?" He finally suggested.

"No," both she and Edward said at once, and then looked at each other.

"I'm not leaving her side," Edward growled.

Carlisle sighed. "This is a private type of exam. You'll need to remove articles of clothing so I can treat the injuries on your back as well as taking a look at your rib cage, Bella. Are you sure you don't want him to wait in the other room?"

"No," she said softly, reaching for Edward's hand. "He can stay." and then to Edward. "Don't leave me."

"I won't," he said, his amber eyes locked with hers. "Ever."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

**Authors Notes: Hi, lovely readers. Thank you to those of you that were kind enough to review. This chapter, this ****_story_**** in general, has been difficult to write in certain places. I've never written anything quite like this, in that it covers the effects of trauma and sexual assault. Out of respect for victims everywhere, I hope to be able to do it justice. **

Bella had two fractured ribs. Edward held her hand while Carlisle examined her, pressing his fingertips to the bones with the utmost tenderness. The bruising was some of the worst he'd seen, even in medical school. The discoloration on her side was such a deep shade of navy in the center, that it was almost black, with yellow, green and red rimming the edges.

"Ahh," she cried, when Carlisle touched an extra sensitive place, and Edward had to grit his teeth.

"I'm sorry Bella, I know it's painful," Carlisle said. "We're almost done with this part. . "

"It's okay, love," Edward murmured. Pain whipped through him when she bit her lip to keep from crying out again. He could tell she was trying not to react when Carlisle felt another painful looking spot. She inhaled sharply, tears gathering in her eyes.

"At least two of your ribs are fractured," Carlisle announced, moving her sweater back down over her abdomen. "I won't know more until we get an x-ray."

Edward helped Bella into a sitting position, which made her wince.

"I caught a glimpse of your back while we were still in Portland," Carlisle said carefully, meeting first Bella's, and then Edward's eyes. Edward had also seen her back when she first crawled out from under the bed, before he'd even known it was her, and had blanched at her injuries. "Some of the wounds look like they may be infected. May I take a look?"

Bella nodded, looking pale and tired.

Edward turned around while she slipped out of her top and layed on her stomach. When her bare chest was pressed into the mattress, preserving her modesty, he resumed his position beside her on the bed. Her back was even worse than he'd known. He fought to control his furious response.

Several long, red, swollen gashes stripped her back in a criss cross pattern. Some were thin and deep, while others were wider and raised. There were also patches of red flesh where it looked as though the skin had been chafed raw and peeled away entirely. Even Carlilse looked sickened by the damage she had incurred.

"Edward," he directed, "ask Esme to bring a bowl of warm soapy water and several wash cloths."

Edward's phone was in his hand in a second, and Esme appeared in the doorway a moment later. She passed the bowl and rags through the door frame and vanished, giving Bella as much privacy as she could. As it was, his family was now assembled downstairs, all engaged in various tasks, but fully aware of the goings on in Edward's bedroom.

Bella hissed and drew in several sharp breaths through her nose as Carlisle cleaned out the lacerations. Edward smoothed her hair off the back of her neck and felt his stomach roil with rage and helplessness every time she whimpered.

"Bella," Carlisle said. "I have to ask. . . how did, that is, what was used to give you these injuries?"

Bella shuddered and turned her face into the bed, muttering something unintelligible.

"I'm sorry?" Carlisle asked. "I didn't quite catch that."

Bella removed her face from the pillow, and her eyes were rimmed red. Edward could tell she was starting to cry. "A whip, I think," she whispered. "It could have been a belt. Maybe both, I can't be sure."

She pressed her face back into the privacy of the pillow, and Edward growled deep in his chest. He knew that some of the sadistic vampires liked to, literally, play with their food before eating it. But it was by typically by letting their prey run, allowing them to believe could escape and heightening their adrenaline, which made the blood sweeter. He'd never seen his kind torture a victim in quite this way, and seeing it in person, on the woman he loved, was sickening. The woman who had saved his life, the woman who brought color into his existence, the woman he was going to marry, if she'd still have him.

Carlisle met his eyes. '_Don't react, Edward,' _he mentally admonished. '_She needs you to be strong for her.'_

She had come up for air, and laid her cheek to the pillow. Tears were streaming down the bridge of Bella's nose and making dark blue water droplets on the silk robins egg sheets that Alice had selected. She whimpered again when Carlisle rinsed the cloth in the soapy water and wiped a laceration clean. Edward was sure he'd never felt so helpless in all his existence.

"Bella," he murmured, bringing his lips close to her ear. "May I lay down with you? Would that help?"

She nodded vigorously, sniffling. With great care, Edward lowered himself onto the bed, stretching out beside her. She was so impossibly small, smaller than Alice even, and her frame was longer.

"Mmmm," she groaned, when Carlisle had to scrub at a deep cut where the whip had serrated her skin.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, and he truly looked it. Edward knew that causing his patients any sort of pain, even when treating them, precipitated a great deal of distress for Carlisle. Bella's injuries were, evidently, of a new variety of anguish. His thoughts were almost compulsively fixed on his medical training and years of experience, tapping into an almost apathetic frame of mind to separate the treatment from his almost-daughter in law.

Edward wanted to gather her into his arms, but that was out of the question while Carlisle was working on her. Instead he settled for stroking her cheek and kissing her hair.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again," he vowed. "I love you so much, Bella. More than my own life."

At this, Bella started crying in ernest, and Edward tucked his chin over her head. He smoothed her hair with his hands and felt her palm slip into his, allowing her to squeeze when Carlilse was forced to scrub the grime and dried blood out of the deeper wounds.

"You shouldn't," she sobbed pitifully. "I'm not worth loving, Edward."

Edward felt as though he'd been stabbed in the heart. What was she talking about? She had to know that she was the light of his world, his reason for being. Was this some psychological byproduct of her abuse? It had to be, he decided.

He looked to Carlisle, who had paused in his work, silently asking for advice.

_Ask her why_, he advised, _and then tell her how much she means to you. _

"Why do you say that, love?" he asked gently,

"Look at me," she cried. "I'm less than nothing now. How can you want me?"

She dissolved into silent, bone wrenching sobs. Carlisle excused himself once more, under the guise of needing to change the water out, his thoughts rapidly moving from physical to psychological treatments for Bella.

"You are everything," Edward's face was a study in anguish, his voice strained with emotion. "Bella, do you hear me? Nothing that monster did to you was your fault. You're so brave, so strong. I don't know how you survived the last six months, but you did and you're here, with me. I'm never going to let anyone hurt you ever again. Do you understand? You're my mate, Bella."

Bella clutched his shirt as though she were afraid he would disappear or try to escape at any moment. "I thought I was hallucinating, or dead" she confessed. "When I first saw you. Sometimes, when he-" she paused to take a bolstering breath, "hurt me, I would see you again. Sometimes we were in our meadow. . ."

"We'll go back there," he promised. "You're my mate. Nothing can change the way I feel about you. Ever. Do you understand?"

Bella made a noncommittal shrug, her face concealed once again because she pressed it into the mattress. Edward hooked two fingers under her chin, turning her face to his.

"I need to hear you say yes, love," he said seriously. "I need to know that you understand that I can never stop loving you, never stop wanting you. Say it, baby."

He was quite sure he'd never called her 'baby' before, but he didn't stop to think on that just then. Tremulously, the corner of Bella's mouth curled into a small smile and she nodded. "Yes," she whispered

Edward leaned in and kissed the side of her mouth that had given him the small grin. He reveled in the way her eyelids fluttered shut and her warm breath escaped, curling around his ear and neck, bathing him in her warmth.

Carlisle chose that moment to reenter the bedroom, knocking softly as he announced his presence.

Forty five minutes later, in which an eternity had existed for Edward, Carlisle was finished cleaning the wounds on her back. Even the soft cashmere sweater was too much for her raw skin, so Edward found a white v necked t-shirt of his own for her to wear. Careful not to look, he helped her into a sitting position so she could put it on. In different circumstances, the way she swam in his clothing would have been comical and adorable. He allowed himself a small smirk before containing it. She was so underweight. . .worse even than when he'd left her for several months after her disastrous eighteenth birthday party.

Carlisle had been determinedly turned away, taking notes, while Bella had shrugged on the t-shirt. He now caught Edward's eyes, conveying thoughts about getting her to eat. There had been a few hours between doses of ativan in the hotel room, in which they tried to convince her to eat, but she shook, huddled in the bedding, and refused.

"Bella," Carlisle said, perching himself on the edge of the bed. "Do you think you can stand eating now? Esme made some soup. I don't want to give you anything too rich just yet, or you'll get ill."

"Re-feeding syndrome," Bella muttered, looking down at her hands which twisted in the sheets.

"That's right," he said gently. "Will you at least try?"

Bella nodded and Carlisle squeezed Edward's shoulder on his way out. She sat cross legged in the center of the bed, looking out the window. She looked so frail and lost. Her hair was still a tangled mess and she'd had yet to shower. Rose had cleaned her up back in Portland as best she could while Bella was still unconscious. He was about to suggest a bath when the light footfalls of Alice alerted him to her presence in the hall beyond his door.

'_Edward,'_ her thoughts reached out to him. '_I know you're mad at me. I don't blame you. But could I please see Bella?'_

Edward glared at the door, prepared to tell Alice to go away and that she'd done enough, but Bella caught his expression. Her brow furrowed, a crease forming between her eyes.

"What is it?" she asked quietly. "What's the matter?"

"It's Alice," he said reluctantly. "She's outside and wants to see you, if that's alright."

Bella's expression lightened considerably.

"Yes," she said. "Please!"

Alice entered the room, careful to avoid looking at Edward and sat beside Bella on the bed.

"Alice," Bella smiled weakly. Edward felt in equal parts elation at seeing her smile and jealousy that it was not directed at him. He pushed this uncomfortable feeling aside. What was the matter with him? Bella's happiness should, and did, fuel his own. He knew this was likely a byproduct of being still more than a little angry with his sister, and himself, for not realizing Bella was alive and suffering for so many months.

"Oh, Bella," Alice said softly. The pair embraced. Edward watched as Bella melted into Alice's arms and began to weep. "Shh," Alice said, rubbing her back. "You're safe. You're here."

They stayed like that for several moments. Edward was torn between giving them some privacy and being unwilling to be away from Bella for any length of time. Eventually he knew he would need to hunt and Bella would need some human moments, and insist on privacy, but he couldn't bear to leave her just yet. He settled for reclining on his leather couch, pulling his laptop onto his lap, and looking up vacation rentals.

He knew it was still too soon, but when she was up for it Edward was going to whisk her away. Somewhere tropical, he thought. Bella loved the sun. Maybe she would agree to marry him on the beach. . . If she still wanted him, of course. Her behavior, thus far, had given him every indication that she still did. She held onto him during the painful, and not so painful, parts of her exam. She'd told him she thought he was a dream, a hallucination, a trick of the mind her brain provided to help her cope with the pain and torture of extreme and prolonged maltreatment. Even though she had suffered untenable physical and psychological trauma, she didn't want Edward to leave her side any more than he wanted to.

Alice was still holding Bella, rubbing her back soothingly. Her thoughts were straying to Bella's matted hair and other human requirements, and the vision of helping Bella into the bath fluttered through her mind. Her prediction included Edward, sitting on the closed toilet seat, scowling at not being allowed to help.

Before he could fully process the rest of her thoughts, Esme knocked softly and entered, carrying a tray of food.

"Bella, darling," she said softly, setting the tray on a bedside table that had appeared when Alice had made room for the enormous bed.

"Hi Esme," Bella murmured as Alice released her. "I hope you didn't go to too much trouble," she said, eyeing the bowl of soup.

"It's no trouble, Bella," Esme said, laying a maternal hand on her cheek. "We've all been so worried, and we're all so sorry we didn't find you sooner."

Bella's eyes dropped to her lap, obscured by the duvet. She breathed twice through her nose in controlled draws, as though she were trying to reign in her emotions. "Thank you. It wasn't your fault."

"Ah," Esme smiled sadly. "But it was. In so many ways. We can only hope you'll let us care for you, make it up to you, if we can."

Bella sniffled and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "I don't want to be a bother," she mumbled softly. "But I-" she stopped abruptly, her voice warbling. "I need-"

"You've been so brave, darling." his mother said, pulling Bella into her embrace. "Please, let us take care of you. You are part of this family. . .we all need to feel close to you."

Bella swallowed thickly, her eyes full of unshed tears. "Okay," she whispered.

Edward was seized with the sudden need to go to his mate, and took the length of the room in three long strides. Bella folded herself into his arms as soon as he touched the bed, burying her face in his neck. She shuddered against him and he could feel her hot tears running down his throat and into the collar of his shirt. Esme kissed the top of Bella's head.

"I put some fresh towels in the bathroom," she said, stepping back. "Perhaps you'd allow Alice to give you a hand in the bath after you eat something?"

Bella nodded against him, her hot breath creating a heady wash of her scent that set his senses ablaze. Her human scent, which had almost cost her her life upon their first meeting, grounded him now. She was the only thing tethering him to this earth, to his existence, and he was never letting her out of his sight again.

* * *

Bella didn't remember when she'd last eaten. She'd always had access to water, but guessed that she was fed every other day or so. Edward sucked a breath in through his teeth and let out a small growl when she revealed this to Carlisle, and she ducked her head in shame.

The soup Esme had made, tomato bisque, was so very tempting. It had probably made it from scratch, too. During her time in captivity, she had been twice drugged through her food and forced to be complicit in her own abuse and degradation. She omitted this detail from Carlisle when he asked about the amount and variety of food she'd had in the last six months. Edward's reaction to the whip marks on her back and her lack of nutrition had been hard for him to control as it was. Bella couldn't stand the thought of his anger and self blame right now. But, suffice it to say, the idea of eating was off-putting in the extreme.

She was able to bring three spoonfuls to her mouth and swallow with some success, but her hand shook and the spoon rattled loudly when it touched the bowl. The soup tasted like heaven, but was hard to choke down at the same time. There was also the matter of everyone watching her inconspicuously while she ate. Carlisle had come back and was eagerly observing her, taking notes on a small pad of paper. Esme was sitting beside him on the couch, her hand on his knee, and Edward had taken up his post at Bella's side. Alice had flounced off to draw her a bath.

One, two, three more bites and Bella gagged, dropping the spoon with a loud clatter. Edward thrust something under her just in time as she violently retched. The soup burned her esophagus and nasal cavity as it came back up in uncontrollable heaves, racking her body with painful spasms.

Esme was waiting with a glass of cold water. "Small sips, sweetheart," she said.

"I'm sorry," Bella said in a mortified whisper.

"Your body has been through intense trauma. It will take time for you to readjust," Carlisle said, putting a hand to her forehead. "99.4," he muttered, writing something down. "The good news is that the antibiotics are working, and your respiratory infection is under control."

Bella nodded. She vaguely remembered something about having a respiratory infection, one that Carlisle was worried would turn into pneumonia.

"Maybe you'd like to bathe, and then we can try eating again?" he said hopefully.

Bella grimaced, an expression not lost on Edward, who tutted disapprovingly.

"Please, love," he murmured, his voice strained and lips moving against her temple as he spoke.

Bella had never been able to truly deny Edward, especially when he sounded so helpless and worried for her. She sighed resignedly.

"We can try," she muttered unhappily.

* * *

The warm water made Bella sigh with pleasure, her mind going blissfully blank. It encased her fully as she lowered herself into it, letting it surround her. The soreness in her muscles lessened, and even if the whip marks on her back stung from the contact, it was a distant irritation compared to the bliss of hot water. Alice had added some sort of oil to the bath water that gave it a light floral scent.

Edward sat on the lid of the toilet seat, staring out the small window. When Alice had suggested he give Bella some privacy and allow them some 'girl time,' he had actually growled at her.

"Not on your life," he snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously. "She doesn't leave _my_ sight."

Alice hummed, her pixie face turning to a reproving moue, but she didn't press the issue. Truthfully, Bella felt a sharp flare of panic at the thought of being parted from him, even for a few moments. If Edward was willing to fight Alice on her behalf, she wasn't about to stand in his way.

Bella let her eyes slip shut, and breathed too deeply, aggravating her broken ribs. Her grunt of pain made Edward sit statue still, his back still turned to provide her some decency, but obviously on high alert.

"My ribs," she panted, twisting to a more comfortable position. "I'm fine."

He muttered something darkly that Bella didn't catch, and Alice snorted delicately.

"She's fine," Alice assured him. "Just uncomfortable. Carlisle will give her something for the pain in one hour and fifty six minutes."

She produced a wide toothed comb from a drawer, and set to work on Bella's matted hair with impossible delicacy. Bella only winced once or twice as Alice worked the comb and conditioner through her tangled locks.

The bath water ran murky when they were finally finished and Alice wrapped a large, fluffy white towel around her. Edward finally turned then and picked her up in one sleek movement. Bella gasped at the speed and force at which Edward zipped them back into his bedroom, where Alice was already laying some clothing out on the bed.

"I _can _walk," Bella protested feebly as he set her down.

"I know love," he said with a smile in his voice. He leaned in and kissed her temple so sweetly that she couldn't even glare at him.

"Esme and I went shopping for you," Alice announced, gesturing to the Nordstrom's bags on the leather sofa.

Bella groaned. Knowing Alice, she would be in some corseted, chiffon concoction shortly.

"We toned it down," Alice said resentfully, glaring in Edward's direction. Bella couldn't help but let out a small giggle at her friend's dismay at being denied playing dress up.

Edward looked ecstatic at the sound of her laughter, and his face split into a breathtaking grin. Bella flushed under his gaze, astonished and pleased at the feeling it invoked. Not long ago she'd never thought she would feel this warm and fluttery feeling again. She wished for death at the hands of a monster incapable of pity or regret. But now. . .now she felt it stir within her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors note: This is very late. I had a hard time writing this chapter, and I'm still not totally satisfied with it. However, I hope you enjoy it. Please review if you'd like to see more frequent updates. Your feedback helps my creative muse:)**

**Chapter four**

She slept.

Edward reclined against the headboard of his bed, watching her, wondering if she dreamt. He'd always loved watching her dream and talk nonsensically in her sleep. He had so long wished to be able to read her thoughts, see the dreams that made her mumble and toss in repose. Now, however, he wasn't sure he wanted to see her dream ever again. After all she'd endured, sleep was not necessarily the welcoming void of thought. Surely, her subconscious held the horrors of the last six months.

He was used to seeing her sleep in a manner of positions, flopping from her stomach to her back while muttering things like; 'you can't put foil in the microwave, Renee' and 'I don't speak whale fluently.' Now, however, she slept curled onto her uninjured side, making herself as small as possible. One arm draped across her face, as though preparing to ward off a blow.

Carlisle had badgered her into taking Tylenol with codeine for her ribs before bed. Bella had grumbled and complained in the way only she could about taking medication to ease her suffering, that Edward had to struggle to keep a straight face. It was so Bella.

He was gratified to see glimpses of the girl, woman, he had known, through the fractured veneer of trauma and abuse. He looked at that woman now, who stirred in her sleep and ran his fingers across her cheekbone and shoulder. He'd thought she was dead, that he would never hear her laugh, sing off-key, or complain about being cared for ever again.

Guilt crashed over him in waves. He could have prevented this, all of this. His fingers stilled on Bella and he brought his hands to his face. He was glad she wasn't awake to see his recrimination and distress. He'd once thought that leaving her alone, to be human and grow old, was a kindness and a gift. He now knew, of course, it was a curse. He'd left her fragile after exposing her to a world of magic and monsters; his world. And, as he'd seen after leaving her once, they were more vulnerable separated than together. He vowed that they would never be separated again. Not if he had his way.

She'd said she was unloveable, worthless. His dead heart seized with anguish at her earlier words, playing them back in his head.

'Look at me, I'm less than nothing now.'

She was everything. Everything. If he had to spend the rest of eternity proving how perfect she was, how essential to his happiness, he would do just that. He knew now, with wretched certainty, if he'd simply given her the only two things she had ever wanted from him, he could have spared her unimaginable suffering.

His mind drifted back to a memory of the two of them on her small bed at Charlie's house. She had thrown herself at him more than once, and he had rejected her. He wanted her, of course, but his desire for her warred with his sense of chivalry and his fear that he might hurt her. Pain tore through him at the very thought. If he'd made love to her one of the countless times she'd asked, he could have made her first time special and given her what she deserved. He had fantasies about taking her to their house in Vancouver BC, which overlooked the water, for their first time.

He would have been slow, gentle, taking pains to cause her the least amount of discomfort and the ultimate amount of please her. He'd hoped to give her a beautiful memory to look back on, even after she was immortal. Those fantasies would now be put on hold. When Bella was ready, they could explore one another, but Edward had a feeling it would be some time off. He would wait. If she took fifty years to decide she was ready for physical intimacy, that was fine with him.

Edward decided he would take his cues from her. When she was ready to be intimate, they would be. When she wanted him to change her, he would. He'd lost her, thinking she was dead not once, but twice, and all because he'd thought he'd known her needs better than she did. He couldn't believe how high-handed he'd been. There were reasonable concerns about her regard for her safety and general clumsiness, of course. He'd certainly intervene if she were of a mind to try bungee jumping. Never again, though, would he disregarded her feelings or needs. If he'd only-

"Edward."

Carlisle was standing just beyond the threshold of his bedroom.

"Can you step into my office? We need to talk."

Edward glanced down at Bella and shook his head. He still wasn't ready to leave her side for any reason. He also didn't care for the idea of her waking to find him gone. Carlisle sighed, stepping into the room.

"What's on your mind?" Edward asked, gesturing for his father to have a seat.

Carlisle eased back onto the leather couch and crossed an ankle over one knee, a human gesture so practiced by the physician that it had become a habit.

"I'm glad to see her sleeping," Carlisle remarked, his eyes on Bella. "Was she able to eat any food before bed?"

"Alice brought her one of those pop tarts," Edward mumbled darkly. "I'm not sure that qualifies as 'food' though."

The corner of Carlisle's lip twitched into a small smile. "The goal right now is to get her to eat. I think we can worry about nutrition later. I think we should discuss some long term plans," he said more seriously, steepling his fingers.

Edward nodded. He hadn't been able to seriously contemplate anything beyond getting Bella fed and healthy yet, but knew the future bore some consideration.

"Of course," Carlisle was saying, "much of this will be up to Bella herself, but it might put her at ease if we have some concrete options to present her with when she's ready. Firstly we need to discuss what, if anything, to tell the police. If she wants to go through with the change, which I suspect she will, we may not need to inform them at all. She's already presumed dead."

Edward considered this for a moment. It was possible, though unlikely, that Charlie was still alive. If he were, Bella would certainly want to see him, though it would be kinder to allow him to believe she was dead, rather than having her reappear only to leave him again when she became immortal. There was also the matter of his house and personal effects that she stood to inherit. While Charlie Swan didn't have any great wealth to speak of, there were sure to be some sentimental items.

He voiced these concerns to Carlilse, who looked pensive.

"That's very likely," he conceded. "The police will want to question her, of course, but they can't be allowed to know the truth."

Of course, Edward thought, if they went that route they would need a cover story. It wouldn't be the first time his family had lied to the authorities, of course, but perhaps a first for Bella.

"Assuming that's what she wants, when do you think we should call them?" Edward asked, tracing a pattern on Bella's exposed skin.

"The sooner the better," Carlisle replied. "But we'll need to be mindful of her mental state. We don't want them upsetting her, and she obviously can't be entirely forthcoming. Depending on how she fares, I thought we might call them on Friday. Do you want me to think of something to tell them?" he asked.

"No, I'll do it," he said after a beat. "It should be me."

Carlisle's thoughts strayed to from Bella, broken and used, to his mate rapidly, making comparisons that he wasn't able to hide from Edward. Edward knew Esme's story, of course, that she was badly abused during her human life by a violent drunk spouse. Carlisle shifted uncomfortably.

"Good," he said, shifting his focus. His memories had conjured up Bella, battered and broken from the hotel room in Portland. "You have a few days to consider what to say. Onto other orders of business then...When do you think we should change her?"

Edward started. Bella's change, if she still wanted it, had been on his mind since they'd found her, but he hadn't expected Carlisle to bring it up so soon. Never again would he leave her unprotected and weak. His guilty conscience swelled once more, chastising him for leaving her human and open for attack.

"It's up to her, obviously," Carlisle said. "I was hoping to get your take on it though?"

"We should probably wait until the police investigation is complete, if that's what she wants," Edward sighed. "I don't know if she'll want to get married first, either."

Carlisle's eyebrows shot up, and Edward realized he hadn't been aware of their engagement. Only Alice had known, and only because she had foreseen that Bella would say yes.

"I wasn't aware," he said, his face a study of commingled pain and compassion. His hand squeezed Edward's knee. "Edward, son-"

Edward nodded sharply, casting his gaze down on Bella once more and swallowing thickly.

"The-" he swallowed again, emotion overtaking his senses. "The day before she vanished. I'd asked her before, of course, but she finally said yes."

Carlisle looked at Edward and swallowed as well. Of all his adopted children, Edward and he were the closest. He tried not to play favorites, as it were, but he was sure it was obvious despite his best efforts.

"I don't know if that's still what she wants though," Edward remarked, his fingertips stilling on her beautiful cheekbone. "She holds all the cards."

Carlisle smiled wryly at this. "I'm certainly no Alice, but I think she will. She's tough, and it's obvious that she still loves you."

"Do you think so?" he asked softly. "She should hate me. Carlisle, I didn't look for her. I left her with that monster for months, enduring God knows what-"

"We all failed her, Edward," Carlisle cut in, standing up and crossing the floor to where Edward sat, squeezing his shoulder. "There's enough blame to go around. You didn't look for her. I told you she'd lost too much blood to survive. Alice wouldn't look for James. We all acted in good faith, but our best intentions weren't enough."

Carlisle looked down at Bella now. "I suspect, though, that she will forgive all of us in time if she hasn't already."

* * *

Alice was hanging Bella's new clothing in Edward's closet when she woke up. The pale light of dawn streamed in through the windows, casting the room in grey light. Bella pushed herself up onto her elbows and Edward, who had been reading at the foot of the bed, was beside her in a second.

"Easy, love," he said, helping her into a sitting position. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine," she rasped.

Her throat was unbearably dry. She put a hand up to it, trying to swallow and encourage some lubrication.

"Do you want some water?" Edward asked. "Esme got you orange juice if you prefer."

"I'll get it," Alice trilled, dancing out of the room.

Edward felt her forehead. "You're warm," he said. "I should get Carlisle."

"No," she moaned, not ready to be poked and prodded just yet. "Not yet. Please, just stay with me."

"You're still sick, love." He scooted back on the bed, his back resting against the headboard. "I don't want you coming down with pneumonia."

Bella tucked herself into his embrace, resting her cheek against his chest. Edward felt a swell of masculine pride and emotion at having his Bella so readily be affectionate with him after such a traumatic ordeal. He looked down at her, too thin, frail, battered, and kissed the crown of her head.

"Okay, just not yet," she whispered. "Please."

"Alright," he sighed. "Will you at least eat something, then?"

Alice reentered the bedroom before she could respond, carrying a glass of orange juice and a toasted strawberry pop tart. Edward wrinkled his nose at the offending pastry and fixed Alice with a glare over Bella's head.

"Carlisle said as long as she's eating, it's fine," Alice said smartly, setting the plate on Bella's lap.

"Thanks, Alice," she yawned. "You didn't have to do that, though. You all don't need to wait on me."

"I wanted to," Alice said, rubbing Bella's upper arm. "We all want to help you get better, so you might as well let us."

Bella grumbled, giving the same sigh she would have when Edward tried to buy her a car or a laptop. Despite himself, he grinned fondly when she started nibbling at the pop tart. He'd always loved watching Bella eat, which he knew made her self conscious. The normalcy of their morning so far, no matter how brief, was heartening.

"Charlie," she said abruptly, her face going white. "Oh my god, my dad! He's probably worried sick!"

Edward inwardly cursed, catching Alice's look of concern. 'Tell her straight,' she thought at him. 'She'll be furious with you later if you don't.'

He'd hoped to put this conversation off for as long as he could. He wasn't at all sure how Bella would react, but he knew it wouldn't be good...

"Bella," he started, but her desperate babblings continued right over him.

"Does he know I'm alive?" she asked. "Is he-"

"Bella," he said firmly, placing a hand on her knee. "There's something you should- That is, there's something I need to tell you."

Alice muttered something about helping Esme in the greenhouse, and slipped out of the room, leaving them alone. Bella looked at him with large, fearful eyes, and he couldn't bring himself to reassure her. This would be a difficult conversation…

* * *

"What do you think happened?" she asked hollowly.

Edward was holding her tightly to him. She had cried until she was wrung out, and now she felt drained of the little energy she had woken up with. They were laying down, with her sprawled out half on top of him, her head on his chest.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he said, threading their fingers together. "The feds are involved, but they haven't turned up any leads."

"How do you know?"

"Jasper," he said by way of explanation. He squeezed her hand softly. "He's been keeping track of it. He was able to hack into their system."

"Into the FBI database?" she asked, impressed. "That can't have been easy."

"He's well-versed," Edward replied. "Technological subterfuge is essential for us to pass background checks and create new identities."

Bella nodded, barely hearing him. Charlie, her dad, gone. In all the scenarios she'd envisioned with Edward, they all ended with losing her parents. If- when she became immortal, she knew she would watch everyone she knew from her human life die within a few decades, but it didn't make Charlie's unexpected disappearance any easier to swallow.

"He was looking for me," she sniffled, tears gathering once more. "This is my fault…"

"No," Edward quickly assured her. "No, Bella. None of this is your fault. Your father loves you, he never gave up hope you'd be found. He loved- loves you better than I could ever hope to…"

"Don't ever say that," she said sharply, her head whipping up so she could meet his eyes. "Edward, I lost so much blood when he took me. I almost did die. More than once, actually. Sometimes I wanted to..."

Memories of James' black eyes bore into hers as he ripped her clothing off, as she huddled on the cement floor of a basement- hypothermic, as he broke each of her fingers, flashed in her mind. Her breathing hitched, a painful stitch in her side because of it. The only thing anchoring her to this mortal plane was Edward's embrace, which had tightened almost painfully around her.

"I'm so sorry, love," he was murmuring. "So, so sorry. I should have looked for you. I shouldn't have listened to Carlisle when he said you'd lost too much blood to survive…"

Bella shook her head against him. "No," she objected. "Under any other circumstances, Carlisle would have been right. I don't know how I did survive. I think even... he was surprised. If anyone is to blame, it's me. I never listened to you when all you ever tried to do was keep me safe. You asked me not to go to Port Angeles alone, and then the truck died on the way there…"

"Bella," he said in a pained voice. "I wish you could see how at fault I am here. Just, listen," he said, pressing a finger to her lips to halt her impending interruption. "You give me so much, just by existing, and I-" He swallowed, his eyes closing momentarily while he gathered his thoughts. "I've denied you the only thing you ever asked of me, thinking I knew better, and it almost killed you."

Bella was quiet for several long moments, her thoughts in turmoil. She was glad, not for the first time, that Edward couldn't read her thoughts. In many ways, he was right. If he'd made her a vampire the first, second, or tenth time she asked, they could have avoided so much unnecessary pain and loss. And now her dad was missing. Pain lanced through her chest at the thought of Charlie dead, because he'd gone to look for her...

"Bella?"

Bella's eyes snapped to his. He was perfectly still, watching her with a pained expression. She knew he was waiting for her reaction, ready for a fresh round of self-flagellation. She wasn't ready to address his perpetual self-loathing, not yet, at least. She was barely able to comprehend being safe and cared for once more, and now she was sick with worry and grief about her father.

"I need you to promise me something," she finally said.

"Anything," he hastened to agree. His grip on her tightened and his gold eyes bore into hers with a fierce intensity. "Anything you want, love. I'm yours."

"I want you to promise that you'll listen to me and that we'll discuss our options and make decisions together. No more arbitrary decisions about my well-being or safety."

"Yes," he agreed immediately. "Absolutely. Bella, I'm-"

"And I'll promise you something," she cut in. Edward swallowed what was presumably another apology and gave her a little nod to encourage her to continue. "I'll listen to you, and trust your judgment. I'll let you lead...within reason."

Edward stared at her for several moments, slack-jawed. His expression of awe was almost comical.

"You-" he swallowed, "you would let me lead. Let me guide you? Even after everything-"

"I trust you," she said quickly, not ready to go down the path of the last several months. "You're the love of my life."

He was on her so quickly she could barely tell that he'd moved at all. She was flat on her back with Edward pressing her into the mattress, raining kisses on her face and down the side of her neck.

"I love you so much, Bella," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "I'll do everything in my power to earn your trust. If it takes a thousand years, I'll prove it to you."

"Okay," she said simply, giving him a watery smile.

Their lips met, and Bella sighed into his mouth. This was a fantasy she replayed over and over in her mind while she was in captivity. Sometimes the memory of his mouth, his eyes, his smell, was the only thing she clung to in the darkness.

Their kiss was relatively chaste. Before she had been taken they had been pushing the limits of their physical expressions of love, and this meeting of the mouths stayed well within those confines. After a moment more of his closed-mouth kisses, she nudged him to get off of her. As much as she loved the feeling of Edward on top of her body, her ribs were aching from the pressure.

"Are you okay?" he asked, almost flying off of her. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking and-"

"S'fine," she grunted, holding her ribcage. "Just annoying."

Edward let out a small, astonished laugh. "Only you would consider broken bones an annoyance," he grinned fondly. "I should get Carlisle now. I can hear his thoughts and he's been itching to come and check on you."

"Okay," she sighed, placing her hand in his and relishing the way he placed a tender kiss on the inside of her wrist, directly on her bite scar. "We can look for my dad, can't we? When I'm better?"

"Yes," he agreed, kissing her hairline. "When you're better."


End file.
